The Anti Mother
by NotBob713
Summary: Forced from his home, Jacen joins the Varden. He hopes to die in battle, but circumstances quickly cause that to become harder and harder. Title subject to change.
1. Murder City

**I know that it's not very long, but it doesn't really need to be.  
Do me a favor, and don't hate me for a certain (very obvious) bit of this chapter. I needed a reasonable explination for everything, and the pen just moved itself, and the keyboard refused to change it. I apologize if anyone's offended.**

**Make my day, please. If you read this, review it! I need to know how to improve, and I could certainly use the motivation.**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the bits I made up. And that depresses me._**

**Chapter 1:**  
_Murder City_

In Terim, a boy sat in front of his home, across the mostly empty road from a mostly empty tavern. He had long, dark hair down to his shoulders. It was parted, as best as he could make it, about his left eye, which was green. He glared, straight as his hair, across the road at the taver, or, more accurately, two men in front of it. They were boisterous, obnoxious, and a little too handsy with the passing women. One was bald, and the other had short, curly blond hair, and both were in desperate need of bathing. They had been kicked out of the tavern an hour ago. Their manners were as hidden as the boy's right eye. In this part of teirm, rude drunken ruffians were expected, and, unless they went to far, sometimes accepted.

The boy's name was Jacen. He was sensitive about his heritidge, as both mother and father were dead. He had been raised by a kind old traveler who had been seeking a reason to settle down. The traveler-turned-guardian had died a year ago. jacen hadn't grieved a parent, or a friend, only a well-known stranger. Their relationship had been comparable to many relationships between old men and boys. One providing guidance and teaching, the other providing company and a strong back. His only actual grieving was for the benefit of his one close friend, Susan.

Susan was the daughter of a merchant who deeply dissapproved of her and Jacen's friendship, saying that associating with "common street trash will get you rovved, or worse." In firm defiance of both her father and her now former friends, Susan became extremely close friends with Jacen.

Tonight, Susan was on her way to meet Jacen at his home, and they were to have a night on the town, which would most likely infuriate her father, and excite the local gossips, but they ignored that. Jacen secretly enjoyed being gossiped about, much like how he enjoyed looking several years younger than he really was, becaue it meant he could pass for a boy if noone asked his aged, and could choose to be seen as a man whenever it suits him. Jacen was sitting in a chair he brought from inside his house. He saw Susan approaching, and motioned for her to join him inside. He took the chair in, and waited for her to enter. She didn't. After several minutes, he heard a scream.

_Oh, shit. That's...no. It can't be. But who else could it be?_, he thought. He rushed outside, seizing his knife on the way. Susan was not imediately visible, but he could see one of the two druken ruffians from across the street slink into the alley to the right of the taver with a drunken smirk. Jacen made his way over quickly. He saw Susan laying on the dirty ground, being held down by the bald one, with the blonde one on top of her, ripping open her boadice.

Jacen was instnatly overcome with anger. Pure, unadulterated fire burning away all other emotion and thought except that which was driven by the anger itself. He pounced upon the boadice-ripper, stabbing him four times in the back before throwing his corpse to the side. He would've been sickened by the smell of blood if he had stopped to notice it. Instead, he attacked the bald man. The bald man, having had more of a warning that his curly-headed counterpart, was more prepared. He had a knife of his own, and responded to Jacen's initial lunge with a sidestep and horizontal slash, aimed at Jacen's arm. Jacen didn't even notice his wound, as he was far to intent on wounding his opponent. He slashed and stabbed furiously, completely blinded by his overwhelming, and rightous rage. After a mere seconds, the bald man fell on his partner, dead.

Jacen managed to calm down enough to realize what had just happened. He stared at the two bodies and the blood on his knife. He dropped the red blade, and looked at Susan. He refused to cry, though she was. _I have to stay strong for her. Someone has to_, he thought. He moved to comfort her. She backed away.

"M-M-MURDER!" she half sobbed, half screamed as she attempted to hold her torn clothes on.

It took Jacen a moment to realize that she meant him. "But I...We...They...You...tearing...screaming..." He was having difficulty forming a coherent sentance. He didn't notice the two guards that grabbed him. He realized what was happening. His best friend, his only friend, was abondoning him for rescuing her.

He shook his way free and ran, not bothering to hide his tears.


	2. Cruel To Be Kind

**Woo! A new chapter alread! I'm proud of myself.**  
**I'd like to give a shoutout to A Tragic Galaxy, who not only was the first to review this story, but was the first to review positively, AND was my first review EVER.**

**I hope you all can find it in your hearts to enjoy this.**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the things I make up. Unfortunately._**

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**Chapter Two:**

_Cruel To Be Kind_

Jacen had been fleeing for at least two days. He hadn't been paying attention to time passing. He was filthy, covered in dirt, mud, blood, and other substances he didn't know. He saw a band of refugees camped out by Woadark Lake. He was surprised that he had made it this far. The refugees had set up a few simple tents, made of sticks and blankets, and a cooking fire in the center. Refugees they must have been, as they looked tired, hungry, and had no pack animals. Refugees had been getting more and more common since the Battle of The Burning Plains. Citizens of the Empire were fleeing to Surda quite often now, and many of them were going to join the Varden.

That was Jacen's plan as well. He was heading south, to join in the fight against the Empire, and hoping to die in the process. He had nothing left. No family, no friends, no home. He figured that if he was to just be another body, he might as well be a useful one. Fighting the Empire seemed the most noble cause to die for, so he decided he would do just that. The only real problem with joining the Varden is getting there. He had a long way to go, with no horse and no food. Nothing except the clothes on his back. So, when he saw the group of refugees, he felt like the luckiest man alive. He was only afraid that they would turn him away, as almost anyone would, seeing as how he was covered in dirt and blood. But he needed to take the chance, and even if they wouldn't let him join them, maybe they would at least give him some food. He had eaten once since he fled Teirm, when he found a blueberry bush.

He slowly approached the refugee camp. Their conversation ceased when they saw him. When he reached the edge of the camp, he called out to them. "Er...Hello?" he said. A child started crying. Her mother tried to calm her down. A tall, somewhat muscled, and slightly fat, bearded man stood and walked over to Jacen. All was completely silent as the man glared at him.

"He's nothing to worry about," he announced to the group in a deep, smooth voice after several minutes. "You hungry?" he asked Jacen, who nodded. The bearded man leaned down to a young boy nearby. "Would you get him some food, please?" The boy nodded, and ran to a large pack on the ground, and pulled bundle of cloth. He brought it over to where the man had seated Jacen, and gave it to him. The man relayed the bundle to Jacen, who unfolded it, revealing two loaves of bread and a block of cheese, which was gone in a matter of seconds. The bearded man grinned. "Good?"

Jacen smiled nervously. "Best meal I ever had." The man laughed, a great, loud, hearty sound. Everyone else was silent, Jacen included.

"So what's your name?" The man asked. "I'm Herman Ericsson. Where you coming from?"

Jacen answered quietly. "My name's Jacen. I'm from...I'm from Teirm." His face grew meloncholy, much like his voice.

Herman's voice mirrored Jacen's. "Ah... Well, where're you headed to?" he asked.

Jacen looked around nervously. Relunctantly, he finally said "South."

Herman smirked. "We came from Therinsford. Couldn't handle Galbatorix's soldiers wrecking everything anymore. We're on our way to Surda!" A nearby woman expressed her concern about him relieving this bit of information. In response, he said, "Oh, calm down, dear! He wouldn't hurt us. Look at the bandage on his arm. That blood's probably his own! A boy like this, he's probably going to join the Varden!" He grinned when Jacen confirmed his suspicion. "Well, whattaya say, Jacen? Come with us?" Jacen nodded. The large man was pleased. "Hah hah! Good lad! We'll get you to Feinster. That's where the Varden's supposed to be. Go take a bath in the lake. We can all smell that you need it. When you're done, my daughter'll take a look at that arm of yours. She's becoming quite the nurse." He wandered off. After staring at Jacen for a few moments, all the others followed after Herman.

Jacen walked over to the Woadark. It's surface was smooth, the perfect reflection of the night sky disturbed only by the occasional jumping fish. The bugs that made their home around the edge of the water dispersed when Jacen approached. He left his clothes on a rock by the shore, and waded in. The water was cold, but clean, and it felt good to wash away all the dirt. He allowed himself to relax for a few minutes. When he was done, he made an attempt to wash his clothes. He failed miserably, only managing to get them wet. He had never been very good at washing clothes. He wrung them out as best he could, and put them on. He look at his reflection in the lake, and couldn't help but laugh at how rediculous he looked. He went to go find Herman, which didn't take much effort. It wasn't hard to find a man that big in a small camp of maybe 20 people. Herman saw Jacen approach.

"Aha! There he is! Took you long enough." He waved Jacen over. "Jacen," he said as the distance between them closed. "this is Shiloh, my pride and joy." He gestured towards a girl standing to his left. She was a little on the short side, which was surprising, considering her father. She had a gentle-looking face, with small-ish green eyes, and dark-red, wavy hair. Her slight frame mixed with her height to make her seem smaller than she was. Her skin was slightly tanned from the sun, and she had a scar on her cheek. "Well, don't just sit there and stare! Say 'hi,' Shiloh!" Shiloh complie, quietly. "Hmph! Well, that'll do, I suppose. Now then, would you please go tend to his arm? That's a good girl," he said as Shiloh lead Jacen to a tent adjacent to the nearest one.

Jacen came to the conclusion that he should at least make an attempt to be friendly with everyone. "Hello," he said. "I'm Jacen." She was silent. Jacen looked about awkwardly. As Shiloh was digging through a pack on the ground, she curtly told Jacen to "Sit." He complied, sitting on the ground by a bedroll. After a while, she found what she was looking for; a lenght of guaze, and some alchohol. She got down beside him, and carefully unwrapped the makeshift bandage he had made by tearing his shirtsleeve. She looked at the cut.

The area around the wound was purple and blotchy. She touched near the cut, and pus came out of it. Jacen winced. "Oh, I'm sorry..." Shiloh said sincerely. She looked at the cut a little while longer, and then told him "It's not all too deep, but you've let it get infected. I doubt it'll need stiches, though, so that's something to be thankfull for." She picked up the alchohol. "This will hurt..." Her normally soft, quiet voice sounded worried. She poured some of the alchohol on the cut. He clenched his teeth and grunted in pain. She wiped his arm dry with a mostly clean cloth, and proceded to bandage him up, apologizing repeatedly every time he winced.

"You're so cruel," he said with a smirk when she finished. He noticed her try to hold back a smile.

"Come back to me every other day, so I can change your bandage, and whatever else is needed, alright?" Without waiting for a response, she packed up all her supplies and left, saying "You can sleep in here. We're leaving tomorrow, so you'll need it. Goodnight," and she was gone. Jacen called out "goodnight!" after her, and fell asleep.

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**I rather like Herman, don't you?**  
**Please review! I don't care if it's positive! Just make it constructive, please.**


	3. Watered Down

I don't know if anyone's noticed, but the names of all the chapter's are song names. I make some reference to it somewhere in each chapter. A thousand cookies to anyone who can find the refence.

Sorry it took so friggin long...I can only write late at night, for some reason. And this chapter was a real pain in my natural seat cushion.

It's finally here!

**Chapter 3**

_**Watered Down**_

_In an empty alley way, a girl danced about. Jacen approached, curious about why someone with such pretty hair was alone. As he got closer and closer, he noticed that her clothes were ripped to shreds, and it was a miracle they hadn't fallen to the ground. They were stained with dirt and blood. Jacen suddenly realized that he knew the girl. "You know, Jacen," Susan said in a sing-song voice. "I never actually cared about you at all. You were just a big joke for me and my actual friends." As she spoke, it was like she was dancing on his heart rather than the ground. "I think you met them. One's rather large and bald. The other's got the most amazing blond hair..." Jacen ran. She called after him, almost singing. "Mur-derer, mur-derer, mur-derer..."_

"SUSAN!" Jacen shouted as he bolted awake. Someone squeeled in surprise. He looked around, and realized he had only had a bad dream.

"Oh...good morning," Shiloh said. Jacen responded in kind, and she went on to say "I came to wake you up, but you beat me to it." She gave a little nervous laugh. "Tell me, who's Susan?" Jacen's face grew sad. "I...you needn't anser if you don't want to." He forced a smile and said she was just an old friend, and Shiloh knew better than to press the subject. "Oh! I almost forgot! Father wanted me to give you these!" She handed him a folded bundle of cloth. "We couldn't have you wandering around in that bloodstained nightmare."

"Not to mention that they smell like a dead horse." Shiloh giggled, and started to leave. Jacen shouted after her. "Wait! Come back!" He cleared his throat just as she was reentering the tent. "When are we leaving?" he asked.

Shiloh smacked her palm against her forehead. "Oh! That's what I had forgotten!" Her face reddened. "Err... Father said we were going to pack up and go after breakfast, shich should be almost done, now I think about it... C'mon! Get dressed!" She left agian, calling out "Jenna! Jenna! Is the food done? I think so..." She grew quiet.

Jacen forced himself to get up. He changed into the clothes Shiloh had brought. Both the shirt and pants were wool, and the pants seemed to be slightly more well made. The shirt was brown, and the pants were dark blue. He was enjoying the feel of clean clothes again when it hit him.

He was hungry. Oh-so-very hungry. He had thought he was hungry yesterday, but the food he had gotten only made hiim hungry for more. He was so hungry it hurt. It took all his self control not to sprint out to find breakfast. Instead, he put on a blank, emotionless, friendly face, and walked calmly out to go find this 'Jenna' girl. And, more importantly, the food she was making. But, he didn't know what Jenna looked like, so he figured he would just ask any woman standing around the fire.

He got lukcy. The first one he asked wasn't her. But she was standing right next to her. They were both cooking the food. Jenna had pitch-black hair that was tied up in a bun. The other woman had light brown hair. Jenna was the younger of the two. Indeed, they seemed related.

"So you're that blood-soaked boy from yesterday, eh? Jacen, is it? Well, I'm Jenna. I do all the cooking, and my mum helps." She nodded to the older woman beside her, who smiled as they both cooked. "I figure you're still starving. Am I right?" Jacen nodded slightly, slightly thrown off by her friendliness, much like with Herman. She laughed loudly, also much like Herman. "Well, here! Have some!" She grabbed a plate from a small stack, and expertly spooned a great deal of scrambled eggs onto it, followed by a small amount of corn. "It's not the best meal ever, but it'll keep you walking." It was gone moments after he sat down. The whole time he was eating, Jenna was absolutely beaming at him, likely because of how obviously he was enjoying it. Before he could even thank her, she snatched his plate away, spooned more food on, and then returned it to him. He started to refuse, not wanted to take more than his fair share, but she insisted. So he ate the second plate-full. He felt as if he would burst. Jenna was merciful, and sent him on his way. he was about to go find Shiloh and her father and tell them to eat, but he heard Jenna shout out "BRRRREAKFAAAST!" and people began pouring out of their tents.

There were more than he thought. At least 40 men and women, and the number of childen was undeterminable because of their height. Herman was definately the tallest, though a man with a ragged moustache, that probably used to be rather impressive, was a close second. Jacen sat on the ground away from the group, observing a woman trying to keep control of 5-or6 toddlers. Twenty or so minutes later, he noticed a head of shiny red hair bounding towards him. He managed to surpress a smile when Shiloh got closer.

"Jacen!" she said, ever-so-slightly out of breath. "Father told me to come ask if you would help us pack up. We wouldn't dare force you, but the help would be much appreciated." She smiled. "Besides, I don't want you to be alone."

He stood up. "Well, when you put it like that, I just can't refuse." He smirked, and she giggled, slightly. He followed her to the tent he had slept in the night before. As they demolished the makeshtift mobile home, they chatted. While they were stuffing the cot into the bag, Shiloh grew quiet for a moment.

Eventually, she said "Er...Jacen? Are you actually headed to join the Varden?"

Jacen laughed. "I said I was, didn't I? Well, yeah, I'm going to join the Varden, if I make it there. Sure, the Varden's probably gonna get crushed by Galbatorix, but it's my life, right?" he chuckled, a little less enthusiastically than before.

Shiloh counted. "1. 2. 3. Push!" They both shoved the cot in as hard as they could, and whenever it was all the way in, Jacen quickly tied the pakc shut. She smiled triumphantly, and asked "What do you mean by 'but it's your life'?"

Jacen's gaze flitted to the lake for a moment as he thought, and it moved to the now extinguished cooking-fire while he further pondered. "Well...it makes no difference if I throw it away," he said with only the slightest tinge of sadness in his voice.

Before she could respond, Herman called Shiloh to him, and so she had to go. Jacen was both relieved and dissappointed that she left. After several minutes, he decided to find Jenna and help her, reasoning that pots are heavy, and the small girl and her smaller mother could only lift so much. By the time he found her, she had everything of hers packed. he returned to find the large pack he and Shiloh had packed together being carried off by Herman. As he approached, Herman greeted him.

"Good morning! Hope you got enough to eat." He guffawed. "Of course you did! We'll be leaving soon, ya'know. See if there's anyone that needs a little helping, will ya?" He continued on his merry way, grinning like an alligator as always.

About an hour later, the refugees were gone from the lakeside.


End file.
